Jill Burns

Haunting History - Poem by Jill Burns

In the deepest forest of my dreamspeople weap and I can hear their screams, but this forest isn't as it seemsThere is always sun, and the children of this forest are always having fun

The trees have engravings from people who have long passed, people who's memories sill lastAnd though I've read most of engravings, the number I haven't read is vastNear this forest is a graveyard, One that holds a dark history for it's large valley

When walking by one of the stones, you hear deep moans and groans, it's two soldiers searching for their homesYou can tell they reply to each other, when they groan in different tonesAnother grave is bloodstained, from a slave that was beaten and chained to the stone

All that remains of him is hair and boneA memorial stands in the center of this graveyard, one that the people of the forest work hard to guardIt represents soldiers who died for love, it's a statue of a boy letting go of a dove, knowing it'll be ok with help from above